


it's not that we're scared, it's just that it's delicate.

by commonemergency



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Character Study, Coming Out, Established Relationship, Fix-It of Sorts, Idiots in Love, Introspection, M/M, So much tenderness, learning to be affectionate, one flashback scene, some internalized homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:49:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22588177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/commonemergency/pseuds/commonemergency
Summary: Richie spent years in the closet, only loving people in the dark too afraid to see what anyone actually looked like. Maybe he was afraid of finding himself, afraid that he might not like what he saw. Whenever he had tried to engage in anything in the past there was a voice that hindered him, it told him that he was dirty and that he didn’t deserve to be loved because he was too loud, too tall, too annoying. He took up too much space.Richie bites down hard on his lip, watching the way Eddie moves in the kitchen and he looks back at Steve.“I’m ready to come out.”(Or, Richie and Eddie are in love and deserve to have a happy ending.)
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 10
Kudos: 198
Collections: Obsessivelymoody Birthday fics 2020





	it's not that we're scared, it's just that it's delicate.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [obsessivelymoody](https://archiveofourown.org/users/obsessivelymoody/gifts).



> happy birthday to one of my best friends, [@obsessivelymoody!](https://archiveofourown.org/users/obsessivelymoody/pseuds/obsessivelymoody/works)
> 
> i hope your day is wonderful as you are. 
> 
> big thanks to julie for reading every small snippet i sent and for holding my hand while i continuously freaked out about this story. thank you also to kay who has no idea about reddie/It but listening to me anyway, and to jane for being an amazing friend who also read this over. <3

When Richie was in college there had been a boy that lived in the same hall as him, he was five foot something, much smaller than Richie with dark thick hair and familiar eyes, he didn’t know if he wanted to be his friend or if he wanted to run away from him. Over the course of the year he had gotten to know him, his friends were mutual friends with him, they had gone to parties together and smoked a lot of weed together in the dark depths of someone’s bedroom so they could talk. They were weird friends, Richie would later recall, they were weird friends because there was something there, but he never knew what back then. It’s just that sometimes Richie would look at him and he would want something more, but Richie had been so deep in the closet that the thought of even reaching out to touch a curl that had gotten in in his face had terrified him.

He had always been running from his fears, whether he could remember what they were or not. 

There was one night, at a party, before the end of their first year of college Richie had been back in the same bedroom with the guy, Samuel, they were both drunk, Richie was rolling the blunt and Sam was talking about how he didn’t want to go back home because how was he supposed to survive living back out in the country when he had spent this amazing year in California with all these people. Richie had felt the same, his parents had moved to Portland to be closer to his grandparents and he didn’t have any roots there. He felt like he didn’t belong anywhere that wasn’t here. 

He remembers the door opening and a couple running into the walls and Richie had looked at Sam and they both laughed, getting up from their spot and Sam had taken his hand and led them out of the room, knowing that the couple were going to fuck whether Richie and Sam left or not. 

Richie had grabbed one of the bottles off of the counter and they took it outside and sat by the pool and dipped their feet in. People were jumping in and out but they never stayed long. Richie had started a top ten best moments that they had this first year of college and somehow all of their best moments had been when one of them was involved. It was crazy for Richie to imagine that he had impacted someone’s life this much, he couldn’t remember being anyone’s favourite person, and seeing that Sam looked at him like he hung the stars had done something to him. 

They didn’t just see each other every couple days or whenever there was a party, they had spent the entire year together. They went on crazy trips together. They went to Vegas together after they bought fake ID’s and got so wasted they woke up in a town outside of Vegas and had to figure out how the hell to get back. They were so close and the thought of it changing terrified him. Except there was an issue, whenever Sam had tried to instigate something Richie had always run away from it. 

He didn’t know how to casually reach over to touch Sam. Even if it was something like placing a hand on his shoulder. He didn’t know how to hold his hand, thinking back to a few moments ago and how scary and thrilling it felt to hold his hand even just for a second and then quickly dropping it because, _what if people saw?_ Richie had a problem with always looking over his shoulder. He couldn’t remember the last time that he had been truly held and loved by someone and he had a boy in front of him that was willing to give him all of that if he asked. It’s just that he didn’t know how, and he didn’t think that he ever would. 

Richie tilted the bottle back and handed it over to Sam who had been reaching out for it. 

This was the night to end all nights. Richie could feel it in the pit of his stomach. It wasn’t just the burn of the alcohol that he was feeling. 

Sam’s fingers reached out to grab Richie’s again, and he let it happen. He just drank more. The air was already hot and thick, and he could feel the way that his hand felt, burning him everywhere up his neck. Richie had turned to look at him, tried to search for something in his eyes. 

_Aren’t you scared?_ He wanted to ask him. 

Aren’t you scared by what people will think if they see us? 

Sam was getting closer, and Richie had to pull away. 

“Not here.” He whispered. 

“Okay.” Sam had backed away, maybe embarrassed, maybe upset. Either were valid. 

“No.” Richie said, rubbing the back of his neck. He always had something to say, but this time he couldn’t even explain why he said no. He wanted to. Just not here. Not with all these people around (who weren’t giving a shit about what they were doing). “It’s just… Follow me.”

Richie had gotten up, kept the bottle in his hand and then nodded for Sam to follow him. 

Sam had grabbed the bottle from Richie, finishing it off before throwing it in the trash can. 

There was a park that sometimes Richie went to when he needed to smoke and when he didn’t want to be exactly on campus. He figured everyone would be here and no one would be there. 

It didn’t take long for them to get there, once they got out of line of people’s vision he had reached for his hand and held it. He could probably feel how bad Richie’s palms were sweating and how every single alarm bell was going off in his body. He didn’t know if it was a warning sign, he just didn’t feel great. He felt stuck on what people would say if they found out that Richie really fucking liked men. He didn’t want to find out. 

“Join me in the castle?” Richie asked with a small smile. 

Sam rolled his eyes playfully and nodded. Richie was up the stairs with two steps because of how tall he was, he had sat down and waited for Sam to follow him. The play structure was cold for such a warm night, he reached out for Sam again.

It must have been infuriating, he thinks, having Richie flirting with Sam for an entire year only for him to be unable to hold his hand or do anything else with him in public even if they never really understood what they were. It was more than friends, and Richie knew that. 

Richie’s knee was shaking, looking at Sam and then his lips and back up to his eyes which were trying to gauge him. It was like Richie had a big sign on his forehead that read, **PROCEED WITH CAUTION.**

Richie wouldn’t understand it until later, but there was something innocent in the fact that his first kiss with a man was inside a child’s play structure where nothing bad or evil could really hurt them. He picked it maybe unconsciously, trying so desperately to reach out to childhood where he felt the most safest. 

Sam reached out to touch Richie’s face. He flinched, and then he realized that he wasn’t going to hurt him. Nothing about this was bad. So, he let it happen. 

Sam pressed his lips to Richie’s. 

He had kissed many women this year, he thought he was good at it, that he knew what he was doing. It was like he was learning how to kiss all over again. 

Richie froze for a second and Sam pulled away. 

“Sorry was that bad?” Sam asked and Richie shook his head. 

“No! No, fuck no. That was…. It was fucking great!” Richie could hear how loud he was being and he closed his eyes for a second before he took a deep breath. 

“Just—” Richie reached out, holding his head in his hands, he tilted his jaw up and then went in again. He tried to shut down all the noise in his head and just let himself enjoy this while it was happening. 

It worked for awhile, shutting all the voices in his head screaming at him that this was wrong. That what he was doing was wrong. He tried to fight them back, tried to tell them to shut up, that he wasn’t dirty for wanting to kiss another boy, to reciprocate the feelings that he had been trying to hold in for a long time. 

( _Dirty, dirty secret._ )

It was a thought that came in passing, he had thought about it for a moment, in a particular voice that scared him, and then he pulled away. 

“Sorry.” Richie said. 

_Sorry for not being able to be with you the way that you want me to be with you._

They parted ways that summer, and when fall came, Richie passed Sam in the hall and they never spoke about that night again. 

Richie was good at running from his ghosts. He didn’t realize it would take twenty-seven years for it to catch up to him. 

*

They’re out to dinner when Richie reaches out to grab Eddie’s hand. It catches them both off guard—Eddie looking down at their hands and then at Richie wondering if he meant to do that, Richie looking down at both their hands also wondering if he meant to do that. It’s enough to make them freeze for a second, to look both ways in case there was something there, lurking, as if holding hands was a death sentence. 

It had been once, maybe. 

That wasn’t the case now, but Richie smoothes his thumb over Eddie’s hand and he places his credit card on the table and they breathe. 

Seconds pass and the world isn’t ending and then they leave the restaurant, their hands still intertwined. 

It was like learning a whole new language—being in love. 

It was like learning a whole new language—one that you’d never thought you’d understand. 

There are days when Richie just wants to reach out and touch Eddie, and he gets halfway into doing it before he stops himself and he always has to question, _why?_

What would happen if he touched Eddie? 

Sometimes he’d think the world would implode, as if they were forever stuck back in time when the world wasn’t ready for them. 

They walk down the street now to Richie’s car. _It needs gas,_ Eddie said when he came home from work having borrowed it since his was in the repair shop for the day. _It needs gas, we can get it while we eat out._

He thinks back to that brief conversation when Eddie looked in their fridge and didn’t feel like making dinner. They were trying new restaurants that Richie always wanted to try but was too afraid to go to because he didn’t want to go alone. Eddie was trying to be more adventurous and go beyond his food allergies that he knew weren’t all real. 

Eddie gets in the driver seat even though Richie had driven them there. 

Richie raises an eyebrow but doesn’t question it as he throws Eddie the keys from the other side. 

Eddie gently rolls his eyes when he almost drops them but he can see the hint of a smile, Richie chuckles.

They pulled out of their two hour parking spot and onto the main road, Eddie driving with one hand and Richie feeling proud. 

He feels the urge again. The urge to want to hold Eddie’s hand, and he gives himself a second before he reaches over the console and intertwines their fingers again. Eddie doesn’t look at him this time. They let it happen. They’re allowed to now. 

Richie has a brief flashback to college, thinking about that boy who he had been too scared to let himself fall in love with. There’s a feeling of him hoping that the boy was good now, and that he had a partner that wasn’t afraid to hold his hand or kiss him in public. 

He brings Eddie’s hands up to his lips and peppers small kisses before he sticks his tongue in between his knuckles. 

Eddie makes a loud noise and rips his hands from Richie’s grip and reaches over to grab his nose and yanks. 

“Fuck off!” Eddie says, but he’s laughing to Richie’s surprise. 

Richie laughs at how surprised he is before he grabs something from the center console. It’s a small bottle of hand sanitizer that he hands to Eddie. 

“No.” He shakes his head, reaching to the side pocket and grabs a napkin. 

Small improvements. Richie knew that it was gross, there were still things he was learning not to do in special moments. He didn’t know why he felt like he needed to ruin good things for comedic effect. He hadn’t realized yet that something could be beautiful just the way it was and that no one would fault him for it because he was allowed to have them. 

“Sorry.” Richie said. 

Another thing he was learning. Apologising to someone that he loved and cared for. Too many times had past relationships been ruined because he was too afraid to confront his own mistakes and take blame for them. 

( _This was growing up and it was fucking awful_ , he wanted to say, but he kept that to himself.) 

Eddie squeezes his hand. 

“It’s okay.” Eddie spares him a look, and he reaches over and wipes his dried hand on Richie’s chest anyway to let him know that it really was okay. 

Richie traps his hand and keeps it to his chest and doesn’t let go until they get to the gas station. 

He gets his card out and Eddie shakes his head. 

“I got it.” 

Richie watches him close his door. He unbuckles his own seatbelt and gets out and leans against the car, watching Eddie punch in his pin. He’s about to put the gas in when he sees Richie staring at him. He looks at him for a moment before looking down. 

“What are you doing?” He can hear the lock on the handle and leans on the car too. 

Richie shrugs, “Just came out here to annoy you.” 

“You don’t annoy me.” 

Richie’s face falls, almost surprised by that. It touches something deep, worms its way into his heart and barricades itself wanting to just stay in the feeling as long as he can. It almost hurts, this kind of vulnerability. 

Eddie smiles at Richie now, like he knows that it stumped him. 

“Well damn, Eds.” 

Eddie’s smile grows bigger. 

“You can’t just say shit like that.” Richie dramatically places a hand on his heart. 

Eddie is full on smirking at him now. 

“You like it.” 

Richie just shakes his head laughing. He can’t help it.

“I’m getting back in the car.”

*

Eddie likes to meal prep their week. He has a certain time every Sunday where he goes to get groceries, sometimes Richie tags along but he knows that it’s kind of Eddie’s thing. 

They both had their own schedules, even if Richie’s was a little bit more laid back than Eddie’s was. He was still a little MIA from the media, people had already spotted Richie with Eddie out and about but he wasn’t trying to hide anything, he just wasn’t saying anything either. It was only a few photos, and people had questions but Richie was pretty good by not giving many answers. 

He was working on something. He didn’t know what it was yet. He had many meetings with Steve in his backyard, they probably weren’t that productive, Richie tended to pour his heart out about shit that Steve probably didn’t understand but was trying his best as his manager. 

“So you want to come out.” Steve said. 

Richie felt his heart accelerate and it was winter but southern California never seemed to get the memo, but he was out here freezing in his shorts and large graphic t-shirt and it wasn’t because of the weather. 

Richie’s hands were shaking, his eyes turned to look inside. He could see Eddie through the glass doors nodding his head along to a song while he laid every one of the groceries out. It was weird, he thought, feeling like this about a person. All he wanted to do was get up from his seat and walk over to Eddie just to be near him. 

He supposes that they spent so much time away from each other it was just making up for all that lost time. He tries not to think about the fact that he had almost lost him. It was months and months of healing and figuring out what they were but they weren’t going to waste anymore time. They’re together. 

Richie wanted people to know that. 

Even if it was through shitty jokes that he came up with, at least it was honest. 

Richie spent years in the closet, only loving people in the dark too afraid to see what anyone actually looked like. Maybe he was afraid of finding himself, afraid that he might not like what he saw. Whenever he had tried to engage in anything in the past there was a voice that hindered him, it told him that he was dirty and that he didn’t deserve to be loved because he was too loud, too tall, too annoying. He took up too much space. 

Richie bites down hard on his lip, watching the way Eddie moves in the kitchen and he looks back at Steve. 

“I’m ready to come out.”

Steve had given him a look. He didn’t know what it meant. 

“It’s going to be very hard and maybe a little painful.” 

Richie nodded. 

“I know.” He said, and then thought, _I owe it to a younger Richie. He deserves to have this life._

“Well alright,” Steve said, “Let’s get to work.” 

*

They go back and forth with some ideas but it’s getting late and Steve reminds him that he actually does have a life outside of being Richie’s manager. He walks him out the door and when he closes it he sighs. 

God, he was fucking exhausted. 

Eddie is cooking dinner for them now.

Richie walks over to him, noticing the plastic containers of all of their lunches for the next week. 

“How was it?” Eddie calls out from the kitchen. 

Richie thinks he’s hearing _Girls Just Wanna Have Fun_ in the background. He knows it’s from Eddie’s playlist and he smiles a little.

He’s unusually quiet walking over to Eddie. He stands by him, wanting to reach out and touch him but not wanting to because he’s busy. 

Eddie looks up at him now, scanning his face, reaching out to tuck a curl behind Richie’s ear. 

The dam breaks. Richie doesn’t care anymore and reaches out to Eddie, wrapping his arms around him while something in the pan pops. Eddie doesn’t scold him, doesn’t say anything other than wrapping his arms around him too. 

Richie wants to cry but he doesn’t. The last time he really cried it was over his mom and then it was because of Eddie almost dying. This seems like such a ridiculous thing to cry over in retrospect. 

“It’s okay.” Eddie said, maybe not understanding why he was saying but just knowing that he needed to say it. 

“I know.” Richie replied, moving so he could let Eddie cook while he got behind him, hanging on to him like a squid. 

“Oh, this is nice, actually. I always wondered what a very tall koala would feel like.” Eddie muttered, grabbing the tongs that he had let go of. 

“I’d climb you like a tree but you’re too short.”

“Fuck off, I’m 5’9 that’s—”

“Average height for most of the world, so you’ve said.” Richie muffles a laugh into his neck, breathing him in. 

Richie lets him go but opts for sitting on the counter while he finishes cooking. He swings his legs, watching Eddie’s concentrated face and thinking of how he didn’t have this before. He thinks of how he always used to barely make food for himself, either ordering out or doing the bare minimum of a meal. It was just odd to him, seeing the parts of his house that had never been touched being used in some way—everything now had a purpose. 

It was like Eddie had come into his life and moved the curtains to let the sun come in. There was new life that breathed into his home that hadn’t been there before. 

“Can you get us two plates?” Eddie asked.

Richie looked at him one last time with a small smile. He hopped down from the counter and grabbed two from the cupboard and placed it next to Eddie.

He walked over to the television and searched for something they could watch while they ate their food. It was, by all means, a normal night for them. Nothing big happening with nowhere to go, but Richie loved that. 

*

It’s later that night when they’re watching Seinfeld reruns, he’s got his head in Eddie’s lap and he’s trying to concentrate on how Eddie’s fingers feel combing through his hair. It almost lulls him to sleep. There’s a sincerity in the way that they’re able to enjoy the silence together. Richie was someone who liked the noise because he was too afraid of what the silence could do because it was vulnerable. 

He feels Eddie shake in a small silent laugh, and he smiles briefly to himself. 

“I was talking about coming out earlier with Steve.” Richie holds his breath. 

Eddie’s grip never falters. 

Richie turns so he can stare up at Eddie. He doesn’t know what facial expression he’s expecting but it’s not the one that Eddie is giving him. 

It’s just love. 

“That’s scary.” Eddie says, placing a hand on Richie’s forehead, his thumb moving in small circular motions. 

“I didn’t throw up though.” Richie jokes before adding, “I figured if we could defeat an evil fucking clown coming out was nothing.” 

Eddie’s face softens. “Don’t tell him that I called him wise because it’ll go straight to his head, but _someone_ wise once told me, _you’re braver than you think._ ” 

Richie pretends he’s locking his mouth and throwing away the key and Eddie smiles down at him before he bends to give him a kiss on the forehead, and then his nose, and cheeks. It’s a small gesture, but it spoke volumes.

When they go to bed that night, Richie is the little spoon, tucked forever safely against Eddie. 

*

He didn’t start dreaming of his younger self until after he left Derry. They weren’t super significant dreams in the beginning, it was just small little flashes of himself he couldn’t make out what his dream was trying to tell him, it was almost like him seeing without his glasses—everything was just blurry. 

He’s in the sewers now, it’s not dark enough where he can’t see but he feels scared. He’s alone and he’s looking around for something to pop up at him. He can’t find Eddie, but he’s almost glad that he doesn’t exist in these dreams—that the only scary thing here is just him. 

Richie hears wailing. It’s an awful fucking sound that he never wants to hear again because it’s painful, even if its him. It’s haunting in it’s own way. He clenches his fist walking down the sewer more to get to the wailing. When he looks down at his feet he’s already deep in the water. His breathing is getting harder the deeper he gets, the small bit of light from outside is dimming.

He’s done this before, but he had friends last time. There were people with him to walk down this sewer with. He was completely alone now.

The wailing gets louder and louder until it stops. 

Richie can’t close his eyes and he’s trying to force himself to wake up but he can’t. He’s stuck here. 

“Hello?” He hears. 

Richie opens his mouth to try and say something but the words are stuck. 

“H-hi?” His voice cracks. 

“Oh.” The voice says, and he can hear splashing. “It’s just you.” 

_It’s just you._

Nothing could ever prepare Richie for what he’s about to see. 

It’s himself, but decayed. 

“What happened to you?” Richie asks his younger self. He looks thirteen here. 

“I went missing.” he says, “They never found me.”

Younger Richie hands him the missing poster. 

_It’s not real._ He had to tell himself. 

_It’s not real, it’s not real, it’s not real._

When Richie looks at his younger self he sees a maggot crawling out of his eye and he wants to run away but he can’t. 

“Do we deserve happy endings?” 

Before he can answer himself, he wakes up. 

Richie’s sweating and his heart is beating so fast he can hear it in his ears. 

He feels Eddie move in the bed, and he sleepily asks, “What’s wrong?”

“Bad dream.” Richie whispers, “It’s okay. Go back to sleep.” 

Eddie moves on top of Richie and squeezes whatever his hands can touch and leaves a sloppy kiss on his shoulder.

“I got you.” 

*

The day that Richie publicly come out the Losers Club decides to go on a great west coast road trip, as Richie liked to call it. He rented a big ole van that’s meant to fit all of them (so he says). The plan is to start in LA and slowly make their way up to Vancouver. There’s no real urgency to get there and somehow that was the best part. They had been keeping in contact with their big group chat. Richie had broken the news that he was going to be coming out the first day of their road trip and turning off his phone for the duration of the trip so he wouldn’t be bothered to check the news. 

Richie and Bev are packing the car while Eddie, Ben, and Stanley start routing their course because it took apparently three people to do that. Mike and Bill were looking up places they’ve always wanted to visit on the west coast trying to cram as much history into it that they could. No one could ever object to what Mike wanted, which just seemed fair. 

It doesn’t take long for Richie and Eddie’s house to turn to chaos, everyone’s voice overlapping the other but it just seemed right. He gets a glimpse of themselves from years ago, a whole lifetime ago, and he can’t help but smile. 

Bev is leaning against Richie and she’s watching Eddie and Ben discuss how many hours each person should drive, Stanley is intently watching both of them. 

“How are you doing Richie?” Bev asks. They have a connection now, unlike the rest. They’ve both seen things that they shouldn’t have in the deadlights. 

He always loved Bev, there was just this sense of calm that she brought with her, like no matter how bad something could be there was always another option of how to get out of a very dark tunnel. After his dream with his younger self he had called her the next morning and they talked for hours about everything—all the little things in between and how life had treated them. 

Richie thinks of how they all went through stuff that shaped them into who they are, and he often stayed up late wondering how different things would have been if they had gotten to grow up together like they had all promised each other when they were kids. Then he thinks of how different promises are when you’re a kid, everything just seemed so life or death, he supposed they weren’t wrong with that one. They all made it out alive, all were healing in the best way that they could. Everyone had someone to lean on, and they all had each other. 

It seemed strange that for years and years they weren’t in each others lives, looking at everyone now they had seemingly reverting back to when they were kids, fighting how they used to, laughing like they used to, it was bittersweet in it’s own way. Bitter knowing that they had forgotten, but sweet knowing that they were able to make new experiences with new traditions.

They were a family. 

“You know what, I’m doing great Bev.” He replied, pressing a kiss to the side of her head. “I’m doing really great.” 

*

Their first rest stop is in Fort Bragg, it’s small, but it has character and they think they want to stay a couple of days to check out the redwoods. Their airbnb is big and spacious and they brought board games and stocked up on wine. It’s the kind of sleepover that they didn’t get to have as young adults but somehow it’s so much better. 

They’re wine drunk and happy. 

Richie is sitting on the sofa laughing at Stanley attempting to play charades but being bad at it. Eddie went to grab another glass of wine and he sits down next to Richie who immediately wraps an arm around him, pulling him close and stealing a sip. 

“You’re not allowed to talk! That’s the rules!” Eddie yells at Stanley who rolls his eyes and gives Eddie the finger. It makes Richie laugh so hard his sides hurt. 

“I would really love to see you do better babe.” Richie says with a wicked grin. 

Eddie looks at Richie with his eyebrows raised high. 

“Is that a challenge?” He says a little too loudly. 

Richie is beginning to understand that when Eddie drinks he just gets louder, and he is so endeared by that. 

“It was so very clearly a challenge.” Richie says with a small smirk pulling Eddie in close, giving him a quick kiss to the lips because he can, it shuts Eddie up for a moment, he smiles at Richie like he’s forgotten what he was even yelling about. 

He makes Eddie get up and smacks him on the butt with his foot. 

“Go on Eds, show us how terrible you are.” Eddie doesn’t know what to do with his wine, Richie snorts and leans over and grabs it for him shaking his head. 

It’s when Eddie draws a card and throws his head back and groans at what he’s meant to act out that it really hits Richie. 

He was looking at the rest of his life right here. 

This is what happiness looks like. 

He thinks about the Richie in his dreams and he has an answer for him now. 

_Hey Richie,_ he thinks, _we do deserve happy endings._

**Author's Note:**

> comments/kudos appreciated!
> 
> talk to me on tumblr: [@gaykaspbrks](https://gaykaspbrks.tumblr.com/) or twitter: [@nihilismdan](https://twitter.com/nihilismdan)
> 
> [reblog](https://gaykaspbrks.tumblr.com/post/190682581898/its-not-that-were-scared-its-just-that-its) on tumblr.


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